


ivy & jasmine

by lostinsnow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confession, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Time Skip, Romance, theyre in their early thirties in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23952016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinsnow/pseuds/lostinsnow
Summary: Nearly ten years after the war, Sylvain has spent every moment wishing he had the courage to confess his feelings to Felix. Now, with the promise of a certain man visiting Gautier, Sylvain is determined to finally tell Felix how he feels. If only he could just stop freaking out and say the words.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	ivy & jasmine

**Author's Note:**

> my other fe3h fics are taking more effort than i like so i wrote some short and sweet sylvix for fun

Sylvain was going to do it this time. 

He’d been telling himself that for years, every visit to Fraldarius or Gautier prefaced with his grandiose ideas of how he was going to finally confess. This time, though, he really would do it. 

It had been nearly five moons since he’d last seen Felix in person, the political situation of Fodlan temporarily rocky and not allowing for leisure or personal calls. For months, their only communication had been through letters spread few and far between.

Sylvain wouldn’t go so far as to say he couldn’t live without Felix, at least not out loud. Most days he could fill his time and thoughts with the politics and duties of his territory, could smile and joke around with his friends and advisors. He was fine, mostly. 

When he read Felix’s letters, that was when the sentimentality hit him. He would read over Felix’s words countless times, would imagine just what the letters would sound like in Felix’s voice, monotone and soothing. Every quirk of Felix’s handwriting was committed to his memory by now. 

At night, he would lie in his bed and trace his fingers across the cold sheets beside him. If he’d told Felix how he felt earlier on in life, would his bed be vacant now? He was nearing thirty four, he’d had these same feelings for over twenty years. He should have told Felix a long time ago, even if it resulted in rejection. 

That was why, when the political troubles of the country finally settled and Felix sent him a letter proposing a visit to Gautier, Sylvain immediately accepted. This was as good a time as any to confess, right? He wasn’t getting any younger, after all. 

For the two weeks leading up to the visit, Sylvain had been a wreck. Fussing at every resident and worker in the Gautier Manor, making sure everything was perfect. He told them it was for the possibility of visiting dignitaries, yet they all knew the true cause. It had been a long while since they’d seen the light return to the Margrave’s eyes. 

On the fateful day, it took everything within Sylvain’s power to not jump out of his own skin. He was excited beyond words to see his best friend, yet driven mad with nerves knowing what he had promised himself to do. He’d spent nearly every moment of his youth spinning pretty words to charm lovers, why was this making him so anxious? 

_ Because this matters _ , Sylvain’s mind reminded him.  _ Felix matters _ . 

“Margrave Gautier,” Sylvain was broken from his mental haze by the voice of his advisor. The young woman stood within the doorway of his office, fixing him with a thinly veiled look of amusement. “Duke Fraldarius’ carriage was just spotted approaching the manor. I thought it best you be informed.” 

“O-okay,” Sylvain quickly cleared his throat around the way his voice cracked as though he were still a developing teenager. He hoped his face wasn’t too red. “Ahem, yes. Thank you for informing me. You… You’re dismissed for the rest of the day.” 

“Are you sure, sir?” 

“Quite sure, I’ll have no need for your services.” Sylvain stood from his desk, already heading to the door. 

“I figured as much. Thank you, sir.” She made no effort to conceal her smirk, aware of his predicament. More times than not, she was the one to hand him the letters sent from Felix. She had seen his blind joy far more than he’d like to admit. 

Sylvain had no time to worry about her knowing looks or the rumors spread within the manor, his gait speeding up as he made his way to the main entrance. It took everything within him not to run, keeping the very last shreds of his dignity in mind. 

Five months. So much could have happened in five months, so much that couldn’t be expressed in mere letters. Above all else, Sylvain was just overjoyed to see Felix again, to speak with him without the constraints of ink and paper. Felix would always be his best friend, no matter what. 

Sylvain made it to the long gravel entrance just as he heard the approach of hooves, announcing the arrival of a carriage. Tucked behind his back, Sylvain’s hands wringed together nervously. Within seconds, the carriage came into sight, stopping directly before him at the end of the drive. 

Uncaring of the judgment he’d undoubtedly receive, Sylvain allowed his smile to completely overtake his face as he saw the carriage door open. Just like that, the light was returned to his life again as Felix stepped from the carriage. 

The light of his life was currently fixing him with a flat and judgmental gaze, just as Sylvain had expected. Some people truly never changed. 

“Felix,” Sylvain stepped a hair closer, unable to come up with the proper words to say. He was normally eloquent to a fault, why couldn’t he just act normal? “Felix.” 

“And here I thought you would have forgotten my name.” Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh at Felix’s words, bringing a heavy hand down upon his shoulder. Felix looked up at him, exasperated as always. “You… How dare you smile at me like that?”

Before Sylvain could properly process what was happening, he felt a warm vice take hold around his ribs. The tickle of loose hairs grazed against the side of Sylvain’s chin. Felix was hugging him. 

_ Calm down, idiot _ , Sylvain heard the words in Felix’s voice in his own head. He’d hugged Felix before, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Just because it didn’t happen often didn’t give him any excuse to freak out. 

Sylvain knew his smile only became all the more sappy as he brought his arms up to circle around Felix’s shoulders, eyes falling closed for a moment. If Felix hugged him every day for the rest of his life, he would remember this one forever. 

“You know what the last few months have really shown me?” Felix’s voice was close to his ear, softer than he would ever allow anyone else to hear. Sylvain basked in the knowledge that he was allowed to see that side of Felix every so often. 

“What’s that?” Sylvain’s fingers pressed into the fur of Felix’s traveling cloak, bringing them closer together. Would onlookers see this as too amorous to be a hug shared between mere friends? He didn’t even think to care. 

“I’ve realized, beyond all else, that you can’t spell for shit.” 

Sylvain buried the sound of his laugh in the crook of Felix’s neck, hitting his back lightly. “Hey, that’s mean. I’m the one that had to read your atrocious handwriting for five months.” 

“Spell the word atrocious for me and maybe I’ll take your complaint seriously.” Felix pulled away just slightly, their arms still resting on the other as they glanced at one another. 

Sylvain’s suspicions had been correct, the difference in five months visible between them. Felix’s clothes were lighter than the last time they’d been together, marking the slow approach of spring. His hair was pulled up in a tight bun as usual, yet looked fuller than usual. The lines around his eyes had deepened just slightly, beginning to match the signs of age around Sylvain’s own eyes. 

They were both getting older by the day, and each passing moment only made Sylvain love him the more. 

“I have a request for Duke Fraldarius.” Sylvain announced with a grin, finally stepping back to let his arms fall to his sides. He felt the absence of Felix’s warmth immediately, as though a cloud had passed over the sun to darken the day. “This afternoon, come to the manor gardens with me.” 

“Why?” Felix narrowed his eyes in his direction. “Is that where you plan to finally murder me?” 

“What kind of assassin would I be if I were to announce to my victim where he’d meet his fate?” Sylvain couldn’t stop smiling no matter how hard he tried to school his expression. “No, I merely wish to… to talk with an old friend. The gardens were just redone.” 

“You know I have no eye for landscaping. An unkept garden or a finely tended one, it’s all leaves.” Felix really did never change. “Still… I take up your offer. I’ll meet you there in an hour, after I’ve settled in.” 

“Of course,” said Sylvain with a smile as he patted Felix on the back again. “I’ll have an attendant show you to your room.” 

“Please,” Sylvain had missed the sight of Felix rolling his eyes. “I know where my room is.” 

They both did, after all. Ever since Sylvain’s father had passed away and he’d taken up the title of Margrave, he’d moved to the main quarters of the house. As a result of this, whenever Felix visited he stayed in Sylvain’s old room, directly across from his new quarters. This fact had fueled more than a few manor rumors. 

Soon, the two had parted ways and Sylvain was on his own again. In his own quarters, he began to well and truly panic. What the hell was his plan now? He’d been proud of himself when he came up with asking Felix to the gardens, yet he hadn’t actually thought about what he’d do if Felix accepted. 

What was he supposed to say?! What could he possibly say that would even begin to encapsulate two decades of unspoken love? Did he have any hope at all of Felix returning his affections?

At the end of the day, Sylvain did not expect Felix to feel the same way. This was not about reciprocation, his love for Felix would last whether it was requited or not. His confession was not in search of anything but the simple wish to let Felix know how he felt. 

After nearly forty five minutes of nervously pacing and fixing his hair in the mirror countless times, Sylvain finally made his way down to the main gardens. Perched upon a newly cleaned stone bench at the entrance to the garden, Sylvain waited patiently for his friend. 

Not five minutes later, he heard the doors open and looked up only to wish that he hadn’t. 

Hair. 

Felix. 

Felix’s hair. 

Sylvain’s brain, never one for functioning properly in Felix’s presence, took a long moment to form complex thought. He surely couldn’t be blamed for blanking in the face of this, right? 

It was common knowledge within Faerghus that the men of the Fraldarius family tended to grow their hair out, a practice that had withstood for generations. Sylvain had vague memories of the way Glenn would tie up his hair before practice, could remember the black locks of Rodrigue that graced his jawline in life. Since puberty, Sylvain had known Felix liked to grow his hair out despite always keeping it tied. The last time Sylvain had seen Felix with his hair down had to have been well over a year ago, just falling past his chin. 

Now, descending the steps to stand before him, Felix’s appearance was nothing short of shocking. His hair was down, falling past his shoulders like the black waves of the ocean at midnight. The individual locks were slightly curled, a sign of the bun they were usually tied into. 

Sylvain wanted nothing more than to delve his fingers into the mass of Felix’s silken hair and suffer the consequences that would surely come in the form of physical assault. It would be worth it. 

“Felix,” the syllables slipped past Sylvain’s lips in a breath as he stood. It seemed that was one of the very few things he could say today. “Your hair…” 

“Shut up.” Felix glared at him, hand coming up to smooth over the hair lying against his collarbone. “I’m just trying it out.” 

“No, I… I like it.” Sylvain flashed him with a genuine smile. Felix really would find new ways to surprise him every day. “I love it.” 

“Oh…” That seemed to stop Felix short, petting over the ends of his hair for a moment before he let his hand fall with a slightly playful light in his eyes. “Well, if you like it that must mean it’s a bad decision.” 

“Probably,” Sylvain went along with the joke. “Trust me, it’s good. It’s good.” 

“Okay,” said Felix in a soft voice, yet again showing him the side of his character that was hidden away from all others. “Are… Are we going to walk?” 

Sylvain nodded, leading Felix down the path into the main gardens. They naturally took their places walking next to one another, shoulders nearly pressed together. Felix had stripped his heavy travelling cloak, now clad only in his coat. Sylvain wondered if he was too cold, too hot. Should he have done this inside? He only wanted everything to be perfect. 

“How have you been?” Sylvain asked in a light tone, eyes focused on the scenery of the gardens around them. He feared if he were to look at Felix right now he’d never be able to stop looking, and then he’d surely be made fun of without mercy. 

“Don’t ask stupid questions, I’ve been miserable. For the past five months every second was occupied with obnoxious nobles pestering me with useless shit. The northern tribes attacked four times, we only just quelled their forces last month. Not to mention, our precious king has seemingly gone off the deep end once again.” 

Sylvain couldn’t help but smile to himself at Felix’s rant, knowing he’d be chastised if it was spotted. Whoever thought it was a good idea to make Felix a duke was surely out of their mind, as he seemed to find constant gripes with his own position every day. They all knew Felix was the best man for the job, fastidious and intelligent, but that didn’t stop Felix’s complaining. 

“He hasn’t gone off the deep end, he just wasn’t cooperating with your ideas.” Sylvain let his arms hang down at his sides, feeling the back of Felix’s hand rub against his own occasionally as they walked. He did his best to conceal his delight. “It’s been ten years, Felix. You can’t accuse him of falling into old habits every time he annoys you.” 

“Who says I can’t?” Felix immediately snapped back, yet it held no vitriol. They were only talking over things the two of them both already knew, there was no place for anger here. “How have you been then?” 

Sylvain shrugged, looking up at the horizon. Despite the incoming spring months it was still chilly out, a light dusting of snow falling around them silently. “Same as yours. Dealing with land disputes and arguing nobles. Boring.” 

“No exciting affairs to break up the monotony?” 

Felix knew that Sylvain didn’t do that anymore, hadn’t for a long while. Sylvain could count on one hand the amount of times he’d even kissed someone since he’d become Margrave three years ago. The trysts had long lost their luster, now only reminding him of what he so dearly wished for. His priorities had changed, now wanting companionship and love instead of meaningless sex. 

Felix knew of his change in temperament, yet he still asked occasionally, as though he almost liked to be reminded of Sylvain’s bout of abstinence. 

“Nope. Even if I tried, it would probably only make me feel worse.” Sylvain’s eyes chose to focus on the image of the powdery snow falling upon the dark ivy clinging tightly to the trellises along the thin path. “I missed you… That’s what made it so boring: you not being around. No one around to put me in my place.” 

“I’m surprised you’re still standing, honestly. I thought without me around you’d just crash and burn.” Sylvain had missed Felix’s quiet form of joking, a side of the man that he saw more than anyone else. “I suppose… I missed you too. It’s hard not having someone around to yell at.” 

It wasn’t hard to see the true meaning behind Felix’s words. Despite some progress in showing his emotions over the years, he still chose more often than not to hide his feelings behind mock irritation. Sylvain knew that Felix’s teasing words said in a harsh tone were only to mask his true emotions. Felix had missed him, no matter how he wished to express it. 

They walked side by side in silence for a long while, the gravel and thin layer of snow crunching underneath their slow steps. Between them, their hands continued to bump together. If Sylvain occasionally let his fingers sneak between Felix’s for just a second, he would say it was merely an accident. 

After a few minutes of their silent walk, Felix seemed to be spurred into action in response to Sylvain’s teasing of their fingers together. In the blink of an eye, Sylvain’s hands were rapidly warmed from the cold as Felix brought their palms together, fingers lacing with his own. Sylvain’s head snapped to the side to look at Felix, finding the other man was already glancing up at him. 

“If you’re going to do something, just do it.” Felix’s expression looked grim despite the sweet gesture, his cheeks rosy from the cold. After just a moment of eye contact, Felix’s head turned to look before them once again. 

_ You make it sound so easy _ , Sylvain thought to himself. Perhaps he should take Felix’s advice. If he wanted to confess, he should just do it without fear or regret. What more did he have to lose? 

_ Everything _ , his brain answered for him. Truthfully, he had everything to lose in confessing. If Felix rejected him, he’d be okay. It would be heartbreaking yet not a complete surprise, and he’d be able to recover. His only true fear was that his confession would drive Felix away, would ruin even their friendship.

Sylvain had to remind himself that this notion was silly, that nothing could possibly ruin a lifetime of friendship. Still, the anxieties stewed around his mind despite his better judgment. For now, he would continue to mull over just how he’d do this. 

The covered sun crawled lower and lower as they walked by each other’s side, hands still joined. Felix clung tightly to his fingers, bringing their shoulders closer to the point of rubbing together as they walked. Sylvain responded in kind by gracing his thumb against the back of Felix’s in a slow rhythm. 

No one who didn’t know them well would ever guess it, but Felix was the far more affectionate one between them. Despite his rather taciturn temperament, he still held the same desires for touch as when he was the clingy little child running around everyone’s heels. Even after all they’d been through, Felix still secretly held the same desire for touch. 

Sylvain was more than happy to give him all that he wished for and more. 

Eventually, Sylvain was able to lead Felix off the main garden path, guiding them into a small inlet. A small fountain was poised in the center of the alcove, turned off and covered in a thin layer of algae and weeds from disuse. White jasmine fell in long streams from the tall hedges lining the alcove, mirroring the image of the falling snow. 

In the past months, Sylvain had taken to walking the abandoned gardens even in the colder months. It was under his guidance that the grounds had been slowly improved, gradually brought back to their former glory. As a teenager, he’d never seen much point in flowers besides wooing lovers; yet, he now truly appreciated the serenity of a private, quiet garden. Perhaps he just liked having somewhere to have Felix all to himself. 

“Do you remember running around these gardens when we were kids? My dad used to get so mad at us for trampling the rose bushes that bloomed in the summer. I don’t think he actually cared about the roses, he was probably just looking for a reason to yell at us.” 

Sylvain had stopped walking, standing across from Felix in the alcove. Between them, their hands were still twined together tighter than ever before. He realized that he was babbling, putting off the inevitable. What was he even supposed to say? 

“To yell at you, you mean. I was completely innocent, he would never chastise me. I was beloved by the Gautier family, you know.” 

“As you still are,” said Sylvain with a soft smile. This was not a revelation to either of them, they were both silently aware of the pedestal upon which Felix had always stood in Sylvain’s eyes. The only question was if Felix recognized the true depth of Sylvain’s feelings. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Felix asked with narrowed eyes, fingers wringing slightly between his. 

“Like what?” 

“Like…” Felix hesitated for just a moment. “It’s the same way you’d look at me when I saved your life in battle, years ago. Like I’ve just descended from the heavens or something.” 

Hadn’t he? Sylvain wouldn’t take much convincing if he were told Felix was a holy apparition, a miracle sent to him from the Goddess. Felix was surely the meanest saint he’d ever met, yet he couldn’t find it within himself to wish for anything else. 

“Did you really save my ass so many times that you can remember that?” Sylvain laughed awkwardly, free hand scratching at the back of his neck. His eyes indulgently took in the vision that was his best friend. He’d long memorized every feature of Felix’s, yet he could never get enough of the sight he made. “You have snow in your hair.” 

Before Sylvain could think any better of it, his free hand moved to run over the dark hair resting against Felix’s shoulders, knocking the fine snow loose. The black strands contrasted against his light skin, gliding like fine silk over the calluses on his fingertips. 

Sylvain briefly considered requesting that Dimitri completely outlaw the practice of tying one’s hair up, just so he could continue seeing Felix with his hair hanging long and loose past his shoulders. 

Felix’s jaw was darkened by slowly growing facial hair, the fine lines around his eyes and mouth beginning to make themselves noticeable. His shoulders had broadened with age, emphasized by the fit of his heavy coat. Short, fine hairs curled up to frame his pale face, perfect and radiant in the dull light of the setting sun. 

Every time that Sylvain thought it impossible to fall deeper in love with Felix, he only found himself proven wrong with the next glance. 

“You know, I thought there was snow in your hair too. Seems it’s just all that grey.” Sylvain laughed, his grin becoming ever wider as Felix’s hand stretched up to tousle his hair. “You really have become an old man.” 

“Hey! Who are you calling old?” 

“You, obviously.” Felix reminded him, moving his hair back into place with a gentler touch. Sylvain relished in the feeling of Felix’s finger gracing over his hair to push it off of his forehead. Did the other man know just what these simple touches did to him? 

Unable to quell his overwhelming happiness, Sylvain simply smiled directly at Felix without shame. His love was a pure and divine thing, how could it possibly be shameful? Cultivated over two decades, Sylvain could not even begin to define the depth of his devotion. 

Perhaps, though, he could try. 

“I love you.” 

The words fell from his lips easier than taking a breath into his lungs. For all his delays, for all his panicking and overthinking, it was shockingly easy to express his feelings. It was perfectly natural, after all. In any life, in any world, Sylvain would find his love for Felix to be utterly inevitable. 

“I love you, and I have for a long, long time.” Sylvain tried his best to not crush Felix’s fingers between his own in his nervousness. “I’m  _ in  _ love with you. I know that if- why do you look so mad?” 

True to his words, Felix looked absolutely furious. His face was set into a harsh grimace, a direct contrast to the gentle hold upon his hand. Could Felix really be so against his love that he would be driven to rage so quickly? 

“Do you…” Felix huffed, taking a moment to compose himself. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve waited to hear you say that?” 

Sylvain let out a rough breath at the hand that came up to slap his chest hard, yet even physical violence could not temper the quickly rising glee within him. Felix wasn’t immediately rejecting him, didn’t immediately react in disdain. Sylvain’s eyes shone with the revelation.

“You’re such a damned moron, making me wait so long. I thought I’d die of old age before you said anything.” 

“You knew?!” Sylvain knew he looked stupid, grin almost manic in his joy.

“Of course I knew, idiot. You’re not exactly subtle.” 

“Why did you never say anything?” If Felix truly knew about this, he couldn’t imagine he hadn’t felt tempted to make fun of him for it once or twice. Felix made fun of him for everything, after all.

“You… How could I? You’ve always had familial obligations, I couldn’t take you away from that. If I said anything, I’d only be miserable for drawing you away from your responsibilities because of the way I feel.”

Felix had been holding back all this time, for him? Sylvain felt his blood curdle as he realized those stupid expectations to create an heir had once again ruined his life. He thankfully didn’t face the same pressures since the passing of his father, but apparently they still haunted him. 

Beyond his aggravation, though, a renewed sense of hope crept up into Sylvain’s heart. If Felix had been resisting saying something all these years, could that mean he returned these feelings?

“Are you- okay, hold on. Are you saying that you… feel the same way?” 

Felix gave him a flat look. “You’ve apparently gotten even dumber than I thought possible in these past five months. Yes! Obviously, I feel the same way. I… love you too.” 

Sylvain’s soul almost left his body as Felix’s words processed through his mind. Felix liked him back? Felix loved him? Despite three decades of the man being by his side through thick and thin, his affections being returned had still always seemed impossible. 

“Can I kiss you?” Sylvain requested, nearly bouncing in excitement. His eyes traced the slight uptilt of Felix’s lips, the way snowflakes fell upon his dark eyelashes. A thousand kisses from strangers in his life could not possibly ready him for this very moment. 

“I suppose so. You do have a lot to make up for.” 

Sylvain lost all his former hesitation, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Felix’s long hair. With his hand wrapped gently around the nape of a warm neck, Sylvain ducked down to press his lips against Felix’s. 

The kiss was, by all technical accounts, nothing spectacular. Felix’s lips were slightly chapped from the cold and he suffered in the way of technique due to a lack of experience. Sylvain was no better, forgetting all skills he’d known from his youth in the way of his excitement. Their noses butted together, both too hesitant and too eager simultaneously. 

The kiss was odd, and yet Sylvain still found himself driven near to tears in its wake. He was kissing Felix! Years and years of developing love had resulted in this very moment; his hand in Felix’s hair, Felix’s arm wrapped around his waist. His heart lighter than air, Sylvain pressed a smile against Felix’s lips. 

“Stop smiling so much, you fool,” Felix said, the breath around his words warming Sylvain’s skin.

“I’m the fool kissing the love of my life, how could I not smile?” 

Sylvain didn’t have to be looking to know that Felix rolled his eyes in response to his words. 

“You’re such an annoying sap… Kiss me again so that you’ll shut up.” 

Sylvain didn’t need any more convincing that that, wrapping his arms tighter around Felix to protect him from the cold and bring him into another, deeper kiss. When he felt the subtle quirk of Felix’s lips against his own, he became of what the poets called true happiness. 

With Felix in his arms, he could never want for anything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> am i really a writer if i dont include thinly veiled flower/plant meanings in my fic? felix is supposed to be the strong yet affectionate ivy, while sylvain is the flashy and romantic jasmine. hope you enjoyed!


End file.
